Method for Matrimony – Jupiter Tides Read Online Anne Malcom

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Suspense Tags Authors: Anne Malcom Advertisement
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But then I remembered my mother. Standing a few feet away. Watching.

I let Fiona go abruptly—so abruptly that she kind of fell backward onto the sofa, a shocked look on her face.

Not shocked in a bad way. Because she’d responded to the kiss. The exact same way she had on our wedding day. The exact same way she had the day after our wedding day.

I didn’t even know why I’d kissed her that first morning. I’d told her it was to appease the spectators. And part of it was that, to be sure. But most of it was because I’d been coming into the bakery for fucking years, and I’d always wondered what it would be like to be able to grab a hold of her and kiss her in front of everyone.

The marriage might’ve been a fucking sham, but I was going to get that one thing out of it.

Especially since Fiona couldn’t slap me as she looked like she wanted to—once she’d pulled back, that was.

Not exactly noble of me, kissing a woman without consent. But that woman was my fucking wife, and her body definitely consented.

“I’m going to have a shower,” I told my mother, who was now grinning between the two of us with steepled fingers like Mr. fucking Burns.

I didn’t look at Fiona. I figured I could imagine the glare she was directing my way since I was well used to them.

It was rather hard walking in a position to ensure my mother didn’t see that I’d gotten a half chub from kissing my wife, but I managed it.

I wasn’t surprised that Fiona followed me.

“I just have to… talk to Kip about something,” she said from behind me, sounding breathless and panicked.

I couldn’t help but grin at that.

“Oh yes, dear, I completely understand. Take your time,” my mother replied, grin in her voice.

She likely was thinking there was going to be some continuation of the kiss.

I was expecting a tongue-lashing—and not the kind I wanted—from Fiona. In fact, I was looking forward to a tongue-lashing from her. She was fucking adorable when she was pissed off. Which was why I teased her so much in the first fucking place.

Her nose would wrinkle, her eyes would widen, her cheeks would redden, and my cock would stand to attention.

“Not so fast, mate,” she hissed, grabbing my arm as I walked into my bedroom. It was on the other side of the house. Not that that was saying much—Fiona’s house was compact—but at least we had a bathroom and a kitchen to act as a buffer between us.

I hated and loved this whole ‘mate’ thing she had going on. In fact, I was pretty sure she knew I didn’t like it and therefore went out of her way to use the fucking weird Australian colloquialism.

“You need to get all your shit out of there”—she pointed to the spare room—“and get it into my room. And you need to change the sheets. I have spare ones in the linen cabinet.” Her eyes were frantic, and her skin was flushed, likely from her energy but also from the wine and her time in the sun.

She was fucking gorgeous.

“Are you listening?” she demanded, snapping her fingers in front of my face. “I’ll come to inspect the way you make the bed because I’m sure it won’t be up to standard, but make sure that room looks like a quaint guest room that hasn’t been occupied by a messy man for the last couple of weeks.”

I wanted to tell her that if there was a messy one in this house, it sure as fuck wasn’t me, but I figured with her overall energy, that wouldn’t be the best idea.

“And you need to shower, like your mother said,” she added, her eyes flickering over me. “You need to do all this in ten minutes. Go!” She clapped her hands and then all but ran from me.

I didn’t know if it was my mother’s presence or the kiss that turned her into someone who didn’t even threaten to cut my balls off for kissing her, but I wasn’t going to fight her.

I got all my shit from the guest bedroom and deposited it in her room. I didn’t let myself linger in there, the place that smelled like her, that was more feminine than I expected but in a way I liked.

Then I had a shower—in Fiona’s shower, which I enjoyed immensely, and might’ve enjoyed more if my mother weren’t in the house—made the bed in the guest room, and tried to make it look ‘quaint,’ whatever the fuck that meant.

Then I went to have dinner with my mother and my wife.

Not something I thought I’d ever do again.

five

Only One Bed

fiona

It was the best night I’d had in a while.

In weeks, in fact.

And it was the first meal I’d shared with Kip at my dining room table. We hadn’t eaten a meal together since the celebratory dinner at Nora and Rowan’s place. I’d get home before him, make something easy and within my skills, and then grab wine or beer and either retire to my room or sit outside and speak as few words to him as possible.


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